


One More Drink

by youmakemesoangry



Series: Make Your Mark [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmakemesoangry/pseuds/youmakemesoangry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, how did they meet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Drink

He is loose limbed and hazy when he hears the lock to the penthouse being picked. He doesn’t move from his chair, doesn’t even bother turning around. He knows he’ll probably come across as a typical movie villain, but he’s comfortable staring out the wall of windows over the city he’s trying to rule over. Will never rule over, if this intruder has anything to say about it. He twirls his glass, hearing the ice cubes clink. 

He brings the glass up to his lips right as he hears the intruder cross the threshold of his office. He pauses, but takes a large sip anyway.

“Mr. Ramsey.” The voice is deep, and he doesn’t need to turn around to get a good idea about what the man looks like. Tall, broad. Sounds like he doesn’t talk much. The strong silent type. “I’m here to kill you for a substantial amount of money.” He feels his chest move and doesn’t realize until it’s too late that he’s chuckling. He clears his throat.

“I figured. My Chinese Food delivery boy generally doesn’t pick the lock. He just rings the doorbell.” He finishes off his glass, and reaches to put it on his desk, still not turning to look at the stranger. “Only people who want to kill me break into my apartment.”

“If I was planning on killing you, Mr. Ramsey, I wouldn’t have broken in. And you definitely would not have known I was here.” He squints at the horizon, watching the sky turn purple, and wonders who the fuck this guy thinks he is.

“You’re cute, kid. If you’re going to kill me, just make it quick. I want to die while I can still taste the $400 whiskey.” He sighs softly, and turns his chair, finally looking at the stranger. His eyes widens as he sees him. Tall, broad. Looks like he doesn’t talk much. No mask, and that is how Geoff knows this man is here to kill him.

Because this is the Vagabond. He knows this like he knows which dealers to trust and which to shoot on sight. A Vagabond without a mask is the last Vagabond you’ll see. That’s what they say, right? Probably not.

He’s tempted to reach for a gun, but knows he’ll never reach one in time. He doesn’t really want to fight, either. He’s been trying to run a city by himself and he’s tired. He’s wanted by every cop in town, and by every crew.

But.

There is no weapon in the Vagabond’s hands. His hands are held awkwardly by his sides, open and facing towards Geoff. The Vagabond is seemingly weaponless, which he knows is not true, and yet. The Vagabond is making a show of empty hands.

“I don’t plan on killing you, Mr. Ramsey. I want to join your crew.” Geoff stares at him, and icy eyes stare at him back. Then Geoff goes over the words in his head, and he starts to chuckle. Then he starts to laugh. Soon enough, he’s practically crying and his stomach hurts.

“Holy shit, this is rich.” He wipes a tear from his eyes, trying to catch his breath. “The Vagabond wants to join my ‘crew’. I got news for you pal. I ain’t got a crew, and I ain’t looking. All I got is me, and extremely expensive taste.” He scoots towards his desk, and grabs the whiskey bottle, pouring more into the glass, listening to the way the ice clinks softly. He flinches when a hand belonging to a body he didn’t hear or see move catches his wrist. The hand directs him to put the bottle down slowly, and he can barely breathe. He’s scared, he realizes distantly. He’s terrified, in fact. He doesn’t want to die and it’s the first time in years he’s thought that.

“Well then, Mr. Ramsey. When you start looking for a crew, I will come back. Until then.” Geoff looks up without moving his head, and sees the killer of Los Santos make a motion with his hand. Geoff flinches slightly before he realizes what he’s just seen.

The Vagabond just tipped a fake hat towards him.

Holy shit, he thinks as he watches the back of the man who came here to kill him leave his office. Holy fucking shit, he thinks as he hears the front door open and snick shut.

He lets out a harsh breath he didn’t know he was holding and brings the glass to his lips, downing half the glass. 

He needs a better security system. And, perhaps, a crew.

**Author's Note:**

> this doesn't go into any of the fics I have on here now, but more how I see them outside fic


End file.
